


Even sweet roses crave salt

by Sarah_bell



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Begging, Biting, Dirty Talk, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Light Dom/sub, Porn with Feelings, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sansa doesn't want to be a lady for a night, Sexual Roleplay, Shameless Smut, Some animal traits, Teasing, Underage Sex, Wall Sex, fast burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 07:48:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9428063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah_bell/pseuds/Sarah_bell
Summary: Sansa's a perfect young lady, but sometimes she tires of all the rules she has to follow. Theon Greyjoy of the Iron Islands seems able to break plenty of rules, especially when it comes to girls. Sansa should turn up her nose at him. So why does she toss and turn at night, wishing he could touch her?Sansa yields to Theon Greyjoy's advances here, enjoys some dirty sex, and gives him something he needs in return. :)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ***PLEASE HEED THE TAGS!!!***
> 
> Per usual, this is rough, almost non-consensual sex, and I know many people don't want to read that, especially given Sansa's history, so if the idea of Sansa engaging in any kind of rough or forced sex disturbs you, please pass this story by! This is very much sex of the "she's not sure she wants it - but she does deep down" variety. There's going to be talk of Sansa being "controlled" and "taken" and "begging." She's definitely into it, but just - full disclosure. I'd hate to upset anyone!!
> 
> In my mind Sansa's 16 and Theon's 18, but age them up however you like. Also, this got more emotional than I expected, but I went with it.

"Sansa, this rose seems a bit...crooked. Are you quite well?" Sansa wanted to snap at her septa. She was stifling hot already and her head ached from the sun's glare in the small room. Septa Mordane was right, though, it wasn't her best work – far from it. And Sansa was known for giving her best, always setting the example for ladylike, proper conduct. The scolding was a reminder to adhere to the rules that confined her behavior.

Sansa forced a smile. "I'm...just tired, Septa Mordane."

If only her Septa knew Sansa had tossed and turned all night in a different kind of heat, thinking unladylike thoughts about Theon's wicked smile and sharp eyes, instinctively slipping a hand beneath her smallclothes and stroking desperately, feeling silky wetness between her fingers, but unable to ease her suffering.

Theon Greyjoy of the Iron Islands had arrived last month, with a proud mouth and an insolent voice. Sansa understood he was a hostage, and felt a faint pity for him when she heard of his predicament. She wasn't prepared for the weakness in her knees the first time he stared boldly at her, as if he was stripping off her clothes.

He'd continued to look at her that way, causing a peculiar new warmth to curl in her stomach, until Robb caught wind of it and clouted him for it. Robb apologized to Sansa that night. "He's Ironborn, Sansa, they're not as well-mannered as we are. Bunch of reavers and - well, let's just say he doesn't know how to treat a highborn lady. They take what they want, where he's from."

Sansa had nodded faintly and wrapped her robe around her. Robb interpreted her shiver of desire as one of fear, and kissed the top of her head. "Don't worry, love, I won't let him near you. I know you're a sheltered young woman. Theon won't lay a finger on you, I promise."

_But what if that's what I want? To be taken?_

She certainly couldn't say that to Robb, though, so she smiled and thanked him. He left, beaming, thinking he'd done his duty by his sister.

Theon's glances were less frequent after that, but more pointed. She found he couldn’t resist raking his eyes over her when she wore one or two gowns of blue. She was growing fast, and her lady mother had new clothes made for her. She held on to the blue silk dresses, pleading sentimentality.

"They're my favorites, mother, they remind me of summer and songs and they go so well with my eyes." Her mother had sighed but indulged her. "You're a young woman now, Sansa, but if you want to hang on to a few girlish things I don't see the harm."

Sansa felt far from girlish when her ladies' maids laced her into the blue dress embroidered by her own hand with silver roses. The light silk hugged every new curve of her body, and when she asked Lya to lace the gown tighter in back, her breasts were on true display.

"Are – are you sure you don't want a wrap, my lady?" Even Lya could see the dress was quite revealing.

"No, thank you Lya, it's very warm tonight. Fetch me my blue moonstone necklace, please."

With the stones on her porcelain skin setting off her blue eyes, Sansa knew she was beautiful. But more than that, she suspected she was desirable, which was precisely what she wanted.

Theon didn't disappoint. She saw his hands tighten reflexively at his sides when she swept into the dining room. She peeked at him, and the raw hunger in his gaze overwhelmed her.

After the meal was over, Sansa walked back to her chambers, thrilled to have gotten a reaction out of Theon, but still frustrated. She paused as she heard Rob, Jon and Theon's voice's drift from the training yard in the night air.

All three had spent the day hunting. They'd been in good spirits at dinner, and drank enough ale to loosen their tongues. Sansa inched closer to the sound of their laughter. Theon and Jon had shot a deer that afternoon, and were teasing Robb about his poor aim.

"Oh leave off, both of you." Robb hated being second best at anything.

"What's the matter Stark? Pouting you have no luck at all hitting a target?" Theon's voice just reached Sansa's ears.

Robb grunted. "Snow's the pouter."

"Well you're not wrong about that. Maybe Snow has it worse – not the best shot and too tongue-tied to talk to the ladies."

"I am not." Sansa could hear Jon's sullenness from her spot on the wall.

Robb and Theon both laughed. "Well, Snow, I'd be happy to take you with me to the brothel next time. Show you how it's done. Ros likes Iron Islanders enough now that I don't have to pay for it."

Robb scoffed. "Please, Greyjoy, we're not fool enough to believe that."

"Well you might want to broaden your minds. You Starks and your honor, you treat your woman with care – even your whores."

"Of course we do!" Now Robb sounded angry.

"Even enter that thick head of yours that some women might like it rough? Like it when a man doesn't ask every five seconds 'Is this all right' or 'Am I going too fast' or–"

"Our father taught us to handle women with respect." Jon's voice was a growl. Sansa decided she liked how it sounded.

"Yes, of course he did. Only some women – I'll say it slowly so you both can understand – like a different kind of talking. That's how you'd respect them. Give them what they want."

"What kind of talking?" Jon was curious. He did want tips for how to speak to women, Sansa thought. Robb got all the attention, without having to work for it.

"Well that would be telling, wouldn't it?"

"You started the story, now finish it." Robb used his Lord Stark voice, and Sansa heard Theon sigh. He was a hostage, after all, and even with all the camaraderie between the three, he had to obey an order. Sansa felt a twinge of sympathy. Theon was trapped like she was, in some ways.

"Start by testing it out. Listen to how she answers a question. If she's mewling in your ear when you tell her how proper girls don't do this, then you've got one who likely wants it dirty." Sansa felt a tremor go through her.

"Greyjoy, any whore is going to say 'yes' to whatever question you ask." Jon was skeptical, but intrigued.

"Didn't say this story was about a whore, did I? I'm telling you how I learned to fuck well enough that Ros doesn't need me to leave money on the table."

Sansa let out a gasp at the word _fuck_. Her lady mother had taught her about how a man and a woman lay together to make a child, but Theon was talking about something else, something she'd heard murmurs of around the stables and at the low tables, _fuck_ and _cunt_ and _cock_ rolled together in the same stories. All three men turned in her direction.

"Did you hear that?"

Sansa picked up her skirts and fled as quickly as she could, praying they hadn't seen her. She was almost at her chamber door when she felt a rough hand clap over her mouth.

 _Theon_. Sansa caught the scent of salt and the sea that seemed to follow him wherever he went. Theon's arm went around her waist, and he pulled her tight to his chest.

"Overheard us talking, did you, Lady Sansa?" Sansa shook her head. "Come now. You're out of breath, there's mud on the bottom of your gown, there's no mystery to it..." Theon's hot breath ghosted over her shoulder. "You wore this for me, didn't you?" He let go of her mouth and traced the tops of her breasts. She moaned, unable to talk. Her smallclothes were already soaked. He had her cornered, and he knew it. "Very nice, though a bit...revealing for a lady." He pushed her against the door, and she could feel him hard against her dress. She was breathing fast. All her upbringing told her to shout, to bring her brothers to her rescue. Instead she pressed back into Theon, loving the groan she heard, how he gripped her harder. "Feel that, don't you?" She nodded. "Good girl. That's what you do to me every day, Lady Sansa. Not very polite, is it? To tease a man, dress like a whore in front of him, never give his cock any relief?" Theon growled, and Sansa felt a flash of desire through her whole body, all the way to her toes. She tipped her head back and Theon took full advantage, scenting her neck, setting his teeth against her skin. He pulled the front of her dress down until her nipples were bare to the night air. She was half-naked and exposed, ashamed and hot at the same time. Sansa was locked in the arms of a dangerous boy, and she desperately wanted him to keep going. She whined despite herself.

"You wolves, this is how you show submission, did you know that? Baring your neck to a dominant animal, whining high in your throat?" Theon pinched one nipple and then the other, hard, and Sansa cried out at the sudden, sharp sensation, wanting more. "Hush, we can't wake the castle. They'll find Lord Stark's eldest daughter letting a man strip her naked in the open." Theon turned her so she was facing him, her back to the wall. He licked his lips. "Gods, you're a sight, panting for me already. I'm going to kiss you now, and it's not going to be like one of your songs. I'm not a cruel man, though, I'm not going to force you. If you want me to stop just close your mouth and push me away. If not, though..." He closed the last bit of distance between them, and Sansa's whole world was Theon's glittering eyes and the heat of his body as he rumbled in her ear. "If not, open your mouth to me, and submit. You'll be mine, to do with as I please, not a lady anymore tonight, do you understand?" She didn't, not completely, but she knew she wanted to yield, to give in, to let...

"Let someone else take over, yes, that's it, girl." He kneaded her breast, and she saw his chest rise and fall rapidly. "Prove it to me when I kiss you." Without warning he crushed his mouth against hers, bruising her, biting at her lips. She opened her mouth gladly to his assault, and he licked into her, sucking on her tongue. She wrapped her arms around him. He dipped into her mouth again and again and she whimpered for him, feeling his...his _cock_ in the cradle of her hips, if she wasn't a lady anymore, she didn't have to think like one. He broke away and she mewled at the loss of contact. He smiled at her, and she was surprised to see sweetness in his feral stare. "Seven hells, I've wanted to do this for so long, Sansa....or would you like another name?"

How did Theon know she wanted to be as far away from her role as Lady Sansa as possible, that another name would help? "Call...call me Lya, please." She looked down, like her lady's maid would, like any common woman would.

"Lya." Sansa shivered as the name washed over her, gave her permission to be someone else. "Sweet Lya, I'm going to fuck you in Lady Stark's chambers, any way I can, and you're going to let me." Sansa nodded. "Say it for me now."

"Yes, Theon-m'lord." Sansa blushed, hoped she hadn't gone too far, but Theon chuckled. "Good girl, am I to be your lord tonight?" Sansa sighed happily and threaded her fingers through Theon's unruly hair, feeling her blood thrum when Theon kissed her chest, latching on to one of her nipples. She bucked against his mouth but he only sucked harder, grazing her with his teeth. It took all her self-control not to cry out again as he laved attention on one breast and then the other, the wetness of his mouth a counterpoint to the warm night air.

"Lift your skirts for me, Lya." There was a new authority in Theon's voice that sent a pulse to her...her _cunt_. She complied eagerly, bunching the fabric in her hands, and Theon dove underneath them, tugging her smallclothes aside. She must look like a slattern now, with her chest exposed and her skirts pulled up to her waist. Theon trailed his fingers up the inside of her thighs, and then suddenly his mouth was _there_ , on her cunt, he was licking up her slit, and she dropped her head back against the wall. Nothing could have prepared her for how good this felt. Gods, perhaps it was worth it to be a whore, if a man did this every night–

She whined again as Theon thrust into her with his tongue, she couldn't help it, she had to make some sound, relieve the pressure building inside her. Theon slid two fingers into her, thrashing his tongue over a spot that made her legs shake. She doubled over as she felt sweet contractions wrack her body. Theon wrung every last bit of pleasure from her, then had her back up against the wall in an instant. She pulled him closer and licked over his lips, tasting sweetness and salt together. He broke away and bit down on her throat, sending another spasm through her. He held her through it and kissed her again before drawing back.

"Your cunt’s like honey in my mouth, Lya. Am I the first man to taste you?"

"Yes, m'lord."

"Then I'm lucky. Though I won't be the last." Sansa thought she heard a note of sadness in Theon's voice. "But tonight..." Theon reached behind her to push open the door. "Tonight I'll do more than taste you. I'll make you mine, and do you know what I'll enjoy most?" Theon walked her back to the bed, his pupils blown. He loosened the laces of her gown and tossed her necklace aside, until she was naked before him.

"What's that, m'lord?" She looked at him through her eyelashes.

Theon gave her a wicked grin as he pushed her onto the mattress. "Hearing you beg me for it."


	2. Chapter 2

Sansa felt a delicious sense of disorientation as Theon pushed her back onto Lady Stark's pillows. She was a common girl now, and common girls let men... _do things_ to them, without second thoughts. Some were reckless, even became whores, if they liked how men treated them, and Lya seemed to like what Theon was doing very much.

Theon loomed over her as she lay on her back. He was fully clothed, ready to have her, and she spread her legs wider at the thought. Theon grinned, pulling his shirt over his head, covering her body with his own. His solid weight felt right on top of her, and she murmured her pleasure when she ran her fingers through the light hair on his chest. Sansa had only seen her brothers' bodies at the hot springs years ago, and they'd been hairless, children, all of them. Theon was clearly a man, a man who'd told her he'd make her beg before the night was through.

"Had you planned on leaving your breeches on, m'lord?" Sansa's tone was playful, but she was genuinely puzzled. "Didn't you want me every way you could have me?" She stroked him brazenly, and giggled as he grunted and thrust into her hand.

"Yes...every way I can have you." Something flickered behind his eyes, and Sansa wondered if she had understood exactly what he meant. But then Theon placed his hand over hers and helped her stroke him through his clothes. She could feel him grow harder, see his eyes lose focus, and she liked it, liked how she undid him. It made her feel powerful, and strong. He pulled her onto his lap, brushing his fingers over her cunt, and she writhed under his touch.

"Here's what you can do for me." His voice was a tease in her ear, raising gooseflesh along her arm.

"Tell me, m'lord, I'll do it, I promise-"

"Good girl. Do you remember what we did, at the door, under your skirts? How I fucked you with my tongue?" She held onto his shoulders for dear life as he worked her cunt. "Do you remember how much you liked it, how you peaked for me?"

"Yes, m'lord, _please..._ " She felt a deep, aching throb between her legs.

"Do you want to peak again?

"Gods, yes-"

Theon smacked her ass, lightly. "Then use your mouth, Lya." He reached down and undid his laces. His cock sprung free, and Sansa let a small noise slip.

"Go on now...or have you never seen a man's cock before?"

Sansa shook her head. "It's just...are they all so big?"

Theon laughed, and she flushed. "Well, you certainly know how to talk like a whore. But the way you blush...you're the picture of innocence. Just waiting for the right man to ruin you." Theon took her head in his hands and brought her lips to his cock. His touch was gentler than she expected. "Take my cock in your hand, Lya." She did as he asked. Theon groaned as her slim fingers wrapped around his girth. "Yes, that's it, open your mouth for me, girl.

She hovered above him, feeling one last echo of guilt at her wanton behavior, even though she longed to take him in her mouth. She felt Theon push her head down. "Suck, now. Don't keep me waiting." Something dark unfurled in her belly at the rasp in his voice, the firmness of his hand at the back of her neck. She let herself go, taking the tip of his cock in her mouth greedily. He tasted salty, but not unpleasant.

"Fuck, Lya, so good, take it, deeper, girl." Theon was growling, starting to move inside her mouth as she swirled her tongue around his length and opened the back of her throat. She took as much of him as she could, stroking his balls, licking and sucking eagerly, proud of herself for taking more of him each time.

Theon was talking steadily now, his hands on either side of her head, telling her how she was better than any whore he'd had, that she sucked his cock like she was born to it, that she was his good, sweet slut for taking him so deep, for letting her lord use her throat for his pleasure. Sansa had always responded well to praise and this was no exception. She warmed to his words, getting onto her knees so she could take more of his length, bobbing her head, feeling dirty and free and more turned on every minute she was allowed to be just a common girl sitting on a lady's bed, letting a lord fuck her mouth.

"Seven hells, Lya-" Theon's strokes were coarsening, and Sansa sucked all the harder, until he pulled her up to his mouth.

She felt her cheeks flame. "Did I displease you, m'lord?" Theon kissed her, hard, and Sansa knew he could taste himself on her tongue. He pulled back and brushed his thumb over her cheekbone. "No, girl. You're – your mouth is hot and tight, just like I want it."

"Then why did you stop?"

"Because I was about to come, and I didn't want to startle you."

"Please, m'lord, let me, I can handle it-"

Theon smirked. "Yes, I think you can. But that's not what I want, Lya, and you promised to please me, didn't you?"

"Yes-"

"Good. Then lie down and let me touch you."

Sansa did as she was told. Theon ran his hands through her hair, then down her sides. He couldn't seem to get enough of touching her skin, running his hands over every dip and curve of her body, setting her senses alight. When he moved his hand between her thighs she parted them instantly, and he sucked in a breath, drinking in the sight of her cunt. Sansa saw his cock twitch, and knew what would cure the ache deep inside her. She reached for him, but Theon stilled her hand.

Sansa whined in frustration. Was she not enough for him? "Please, m'lord, I need you." Even she was struck by the intensity in her voice. "Tell me what you would have me say."

Theon muttered a curse under his breath. Sansa shifted so that his cock was right where she wanted it.

"Wait, Lya, wait..." Finally Sansa heard the warning in his tone. He meant this was serious, they'd been playing tonight, but he knew what her maidenhead was worth to her future husband. Sansa also knew many highborn girls lost their maidenheads horseback riding, that she came from a powerful family. Any man who would marry her would defer to the Stark name, and likely never question her virginity.

 _"Theon._ " Now it was Sansa, not Lya, talking to him, pleading with him. "Theon, I want it to be you." Theon's forehead creased. "If - If you want to, Theon." Maybe she'd been wrong, maybe he didn't want her that way after all. She started to turn away from him, closing her legs.

Theon covered his body with hers again, pinning her to the bed. She could feel the urgency, the need rolling off him. Her breath hitched. Theon locked eyes with her. "Tell me again. Tell me you want this."

"Do _you_ want it, Theon? Do you want me?" She ran her hands down his back and felt him shudder. A silence settled over the room.

"I've wanted you since the very first time I saw you." Theon's voice was husky. He started to stroke her cunt again, making her whimper. "I've never stopped wanting you."

"Then _take_ me, Theon. Please." Sansa helped him rid himself of his breeches, and nearly sobbed with relief when she felt Theon start to enter her. He did it slowly, so slowly that she thought to complain, but her body did need time to adjust to him.

Theon grabbed her wrist and guided her hand down to her cunt. "Touch yourself, I know it hurts at first. It'll feel better if you do." Sansa started to stroke her own wetness, hesitantly at first, then faster when she felt a bolt of heat between her legs.

Theon seemed mesmerized by the sight of them together. "Gods, but you're tight..."

"Is that bad, m'lord?" Sansa was breathing faster as pleasure overtook pain, and she started to push into Theon, needing their game back, needing the freedom it gave her, to be with him.

"Fuck, no, S-Lya, it's very, very good." Sansa saw beads of sweat at Theon's hairline as he eased into her, finally, finally sheathed all the way inside her. He started to thrust, and she knew she'd peak from the way he filled her, from the way he looked at her with lust and something more as he found his rhythm.

"Good girl, wrap your legs around me, Lya." Some of his earlier confidence was back, and she fed off of it, yielding, letting him have his way with her, just like she'd promised she would. He sucked a bloom on her neck and she hummed, knowing the mark would show, knowing he meant it to last. She wrapped her long legs around him. She whined as he tugged on her hair, baring her throat again.

"Tell me how it feels, Lya." Theon was back in his role now. He placed a hand on her throat, and she bucked against him, loving his dominance, loving how he was claiming her as his, how he was thrusting harder now. "How does it feel to be taken, girl?"

"Like I'm yours, m'lord, like..." She could barely talk, she was lost in his arms.

Theon pulled out, a gleam in his eye. "You'll need to do better than that, Lya."

Sansa was scrambling for purchase on the sheets, lifting her hips up off the bed, needing Theon’s cock in her again.

Theon licked between her legs, and she saw stars behind her eyes, grasping for his hair, frustrated when he moved outside her reach. 

"Beg, Lya. Beg for me now."

"Please, m'lord, I..." Sansa felt empty, hollow without him. She needed him so badly, and cast about for what a common girl would do. She'd overheard one of the serving girls use filthy language when a stable boy had her bent over the kitchen table, once. Maybe her lord wanted the same. 

Theon teased her entrance, brushed her hair from her forehead. "Say it for me. I know you want to, Lya."

She did, truly, and she reached for boldness. "Your - your cock, please..."

Theon pushed into her a few inches, then stopped. "Good. More, girl."

She could hear his labored breathing, knew he was holding back too. Sansa begged for all she was worth. "Please...please fuck me, like...like I deserve it."

Theon grunted and snapped his hips into her. "Such words in your sweet little mouth. Tell me what you are, Lya."

She was tossing her head on the pillow, gasping each time he rutted into her. She wasn't even sure what she was saying anymore, only that she was surrounded by their scent and heat as they moved together. "I'm...gods...your whore?"

Theon shook his head firmly, leaned down to suck another bloom on her chest. "No. That means other men get to fuck you, feel your tight, wet cunt, Lya, and I want you all to myself. I want to make you my salt wife."

"S-Salt wife?" She was dizzy, trained onto the sound of his voice, thinking she'd be whatever he wanted, if only he didn't stop moving inside her, bringing her closer to the edge.

Theon hissed, and Sansa could tell hearing her say those words, _salt wife_ , released something inside him. "Yes, fuck, yes. Say it again, Lya."

"Your salt wife-"

"That's right, girl, I've stolen you tonight, you belong to me now-"

Sansa was arching her back now, canting her hips. She wanted to spur him on, to make him keep fucking her up the bed.

Theon growled against her ear, holding on to her shoulders to shove his cock harder into her cunt. "You'll wait for me when I set sail, only me, do you understand?" She could feel him shaking. 

"Only you, I'll wait, I promise..."  

Theon looked lost, now too, trapped in the same ecstasy, his eyes closed, struggling to get the words out. She ran her hands through his damp hair, and he pushed her thigh up, pressing her harder into the mattress. 

"Fuck, you're mine, mine alone." He was deep inside her, his cock hitting her at a new angle that made her burn for him. Sansa kissed him on impulse, holding his face in her hands, and they kissed for several minutes, tongues dancing as their frenzy built. His stubble rubbed against her cheek when he broke away and whispered hoarsely in her ear. "I'll claim your cunt now, and being buried inside you is the thought that will bring me home to shore." 

Theon opened his eyes as his rhythm started to stutter. He seemed to remember where he was, and the significance of what they were doing together. He pulled back, untangling himself from her embrace. "I'm close, let me, I can't..." Theon was fighting for breath, for control, trying not to spill inside her. Sansa didn't want to force him - he hadn't forced her, after all. She let him go, relenting, but she pleaded with him.

"Please, m'lord, please, I can drink moon tea, I just want - all of you, I want you to spill inside me when you come.” Theon stayed silent, trembling. Sansa was astonished at his reluctance.

" _Theon_." He raised his head. She was talking to him directly now, as Sansa, Sansa Stark. She was so very close, they both were, and she knew the act of letting him own her, of taking his seed, would push her over. She craved that final marking, that proof that part of her would be his, always. "Theon, please, do it, make me your salt wife tonight, let me have your seed this once, so I’ll know I belong to you after." He cursed and came with a long, low groan, pounding into her. She clenched around his cock as she felt his hot seed pulse inside her, giving thanks to the gods he’d listened. She felt her last sweet spasms as he bit into her neck. Theon finished with a few uneven strokes before he collapsed on top of her. She reveled in the satisfaction of his weight until he rolled off of her, then pulled her into his embrace.

***

When she woke she was laying next to Theon in the dark, her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. He held one of her hands in his, and swept his thumb in a slow arc over her palm. This wasn't what she had expected when she'd let Theon Greyjoy have her for the night - this was larger than both of them, and she wasn't sure she could go back. But a hostage could never marry Sansa Stark – even if that might be what Sansa Stark wanted. She struggled to find the right words to tell him how she felt.

"M'lord, I..."

"What is it, Lya?" Theon's fingers traced her jaw, tenderly, even though his teeth had marked her neck not an hour before.

"I...understand, I think, about being your salt wife. You can't marry a common girl, can you, m'lord? You come from a great house, after all." Her voice shook, and she was glad she wasn't looking at him. She toyed with the pale hair on his chest.

Theon was quiet for a long moment. She felt his lips brush the top of her hair. "Yes, sweet girl, I do, even though I don't always remember it, this far from the sea." What she heard was _thank you_. "I can only take an Ironborn woman for my true wife, my rock wife, the one who will bear my sons."

Sansa nodded against his chest. "You'll find a highborn lady to be your rock wife, m'lord, and you'll make her very happy. I'm...content to be your salt wife, as long as you promise to come back for me, when you can, to take what I can give you."

"What _only_ you can give me, Lya." Theon titled her chin until she was gazing into his dark eyes. "No other woman will make me feel the way you do."

She gave him a weak smile. "M'lord, you'll have a thousand girls like me."

Theon bent to kiss her, so gently at first she wasn't sure his lips were touching hers. This was the opposite of the first aggressive kiss they'd shared, the one where she let him in, agreed to be his for the night, and as she cradled the back of his head she thought he was telling her the same, now, that he was hers. They broke apart and she touched the wetness on his cheeks. How could a man who took her and claimed her roughly care for her so much at the same time?

"Only you, Lya. Will you wait for me?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So not sure where all the feels came from, but they just...did, when I was writing this. Hope you don't mind! :)


End file.
